


Dear Mr. Evans

by Wallace_and_Winters



Category: Captain America (Movies), Chris Evans - Fandom, RPF - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Apologies, F/M, Letters, Love, Speaking out, anti-violence, rape victim - Freeform, real person fiction - Freeform, sorry - Freeform, strong female character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6681349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallace_and_Winters/pseuds/Wallace_and_Winters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This will not be consistent with the rest of Beth-related things. This is another girl pretending her name is Beth. Don't worry. Beth is fine...for now...<br/>For anyone wondering...this young lady (obviously fictional) is named Anneliese. I know it's confusing...just roll with it!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This will not be consistent with the rest of Beth-related things. This is another girl pretending her name is Beth. Don't worry. Beth is fine...for now...  
> For anyone wondering...this young lady (obviously fictional) is named Anneliese. I know it's confusing...just roll with it!

To whom it may concern (it's you if you hadn't realized)

Subject: The Death Of Alan Rickman, I'm Sure Has Effected You Too.

Dear Mr. Evans,  
“They always tell us to never meet our heroes because of the fear that they won't be who we thought they were.” –unknown  
In light of recent events (of which I am certain you are aware) I have, to quote Holly Golightly, "Made a very serious decision. No longer will I play the field. I am giving it up." What I mean to say is that I have realized that death (well, cancer specifically) is a swift and relentless force --spoken as a true IB student-- it takes, often suddenly and without reason. You already know what I am referring to so I will not bring myself to mention him twice. It pains me; to have a childhood hero taken away without ever a chance to meet him or anything of that nature. I thought that I could either distance myself like everyone else does with a celebrity death and say "It's so strange. He was there and now he's just...gone," or I could take advantage of new wisdom and take a leap of faith.  
I write to you as an eighteen year old Canadian girl from the-middle-of-nowhere. Trudging through the cold and keeping warm with a poetic soul. I'm not going to lie, Mr. Evans, I've read the FanFiction. And as much as I hate to say it, some of the things I've written started out that way; sometimes as yourself, sometimes as good-old-fashioned-apple-pie Steve Rogers. But then it became more than that, only after I realized why I was writing. It was my only way of connecting with someone like you; it became less about you as Chris Evans or Steve Rogers and it became who exactly those people were. A man who loves his mother, is charismatic, bright, hopeful, funny. A man who upholds morale, sensitive, artistic, understanding. And yet maintain to be a celebrity without "giving it all away". I've always admired that in you. I say "you" so casually yet if I were to write in French I'd be using Vous, rest assured. Today I face my fears. I will tell you what I've written. Why I admire you. And tell you my story (not for pity's sake. Please don't take pity on me).  
To start, my name is Beth. Short for Elizabeth-Nell (pronounced Eee-lie-zah-Beth). My parents did not name me that, if you are wondering. It is my own identity and unless you ask, I have no more to say on the subject. I'm sure if you google name meanings you can figure out be choices for yourself. My real name has no meaning. To you I am Beth or Elizabeth if you must (or Miss Wallace if you must must). There, introductions are complete.  
I am an IB art student. Visual and written art. I specialize in written.  
Having been writing since a child to escape years of torture at the hands of my peers and abusive boyfriends, my reasons for the "FanFiction Phenomenon", as we will call it, will come to light.  
Bad things inspire me. I hate to say it but they do. Things I can never have inspire me. Which is where "Beth" originally came from. I created her when my mum said no to dancing. After dancing for ten years of your life, it's devastating, let me tell you monsieur. So to combat it, I created Beth. Beth had been in the making my whole life, having been given a name I hate and trying to find an identity that fits, I went through countless names; Bella, Eva, Audrey, Holly, Roxy, Maxime, Lucy, Lily, Abigail, to name a few. Beth-Nell came from what seemed like nowhere after years of nothing. Since I found her, I've created an identity. I'm sorry, already I've broken my promise not to say too much about my name. Please, keep track of how many promises I break haha.


	2. Part II

But I digress, now you have Beth. Now, where in the world did Captain Steven Christopher Regan come from? I swear I only just realized the use of your first name, which in itself is a story I will touch upon soon.  
Steven Regan was originally named Elliot Karmen. Yep. Elliot Karmen. And he was --get this-- a vampire. Hi, welcome to the brain of sixth-grader Beth everyone! Beth thought that Twilight was very inspiring in grade six (lay on the sarcasm THICKER Wallace). She wanted to create an ideal person, well an ideal male to be exact because she went to school with a bunch of sexist, misogynistic pigs for most of her life (excluding male bffs of course). Upon further inspection, Edward Cullen, although an excellent base (lol base, baseness, bastard, Edmund. It's a King Lear reference, please look it up if you don't know it, I'm not being pretentious, I promise), is also a sexist, misogynistic, abusive, controlling pig. "A superrat in rat's clothing", as Miss Golightly would say. So I took a bit of Billy Elliot, a bit of fairy Prince, a bit of physical vampire-esque traits and voila! Elliot Karmen is a thing now. He lasted the longest of my creations possibly. By the time ninth grade rolled around L'Obscurité (the name of the four part Epic) was outdated, prophecies weren't cool, Alice in Wonderland-esque stories weren't "in". So the Buffy fan in Beth stepped up to play. Meet slightly meat-headed Emmett Tavish Kristofer MacBriny (originally Emmett Luca Calilani). He served in not one but TWO series (serieses? seri? I have no clue) of Beth's. And yes I will continue to refer to myself in third person for the duration of this. Em (or Tav, really now) is your good ole all-American football player. Or art student. Depending on the novel. Same dude. Same look. Same walk. Same thick Scottish accent. Two worlds. In one: a demon slayer, Buffy-esque type deal. In the other: helping his photographer girlfriend sabotage her own murder by being a graphic artist (if you actually want to read some of this garbage, just ask. I'll send.) That's when Beth came into play. She started out as Demon-Slayer Tav's girl. And oh hey look at that, enter bff Kelly! Who I met only a year later and we have now been "Kelly and Beth" for four years, going on five. When I met her she just embodied Kelly. So Kelly it is! Now, demon-slaying is only so interesting for so long so the "three best friends that anyone could have" get bounced around from story to story (crime thriller to crime thriller) for the next three years. Until you came along. Okay, sure, the first Captain America movie came out in 2011 but, really, I wasn't paying attention until The Avengers hit it big. So really we are talking beginning of high school here. So now we have a very confused Beth with a new best friend and new stories and an interest in The Good Captain. But wait, there's more! I'm going to have to come right out and say it otherwise I never will. I'm a rape victim-no-survivor. Three times actually. Three times before I was even eighteen. And I'm one of the lucky ones. Now is the time in my letter (my stream of consciousness really, like Ondaatje) is where I break your beautiful, beautiful heart, Mr. Evans. I was quite nearly (in fact I may have been, I can't remember) raped while watching your movie; my favourite movie. Captain America: The First Avenger. At thirteen, I was sexually assaulted by the sixteen year old cousin of my former best friend (former for other reasons). While we watched your movie. But even still it is one of my favourites because it helped me escape from what was happening to me. Steve Rogers would never rape a dame—I mean woman! The forties and fifties and earlier have always held comfort for me. I think that's why I loved Steve so much. After that experience I promised myself I'd never get into another relationship like that again. I kept my promise for two years. We call the second one Heath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the same notes apply throughout!


	3. Part III

Heath at first glance seemed pretty straight forward. Nice guy, family man, sweet, charming, Ron Weasly in nature really. Until Beth realized who he really was.  
(There now I've done it. Broken another two promises)  
He sought control in a life where he had none. He pressured me into my first time and stole my innocence-no-virginity (my innocence stolen already by the first one). Every time after was harsh, painful, violent, controlling (and I'm not talking Stanley and Stella dynamic. This was some REAL domestic conflict). He sort of began to live with my family and late at night when he'd gotten a job he'd come home very late, very angry and very drunk. He hit me. I'd say the bruises were from cheer or the very clearly finger print bruises on my breasts were love bites rather than violent paw marks. I hid it so well. I stayed for two years. He gaslighted me into thinking I was pregnant. Then so suddenly he left me after having been cheating for six months. I'll admit I wasn't a very faithful fiancée to him (another force) but I had to find an “out” some how. Throughout these two awful years, I fell more and more in love with Captain Rogers. By the time he was gone for good I had discovered FanFiction. Now is where things get good haha. Captain Rogers inspired a story of a dancer who was a law student among many other things but there was a catch. She's in a wheelchair. Meet final draft Beth Wallace. So instead of the pot calling the kettle black, I'll own the fuck up. It started as FanFiction. I said it. I'm sorry. It happened. I just wanted to try on some characters, test my negative capability, play with some heroes. After the fact I was disgusted with what I'd done. But then plot, oh beautiful, beautiful, grace of plot came along and all I had to do was shift around some names and places and occupations until, voila! the masterpiece could begin. With no title of course. Steve Rogers became Steve Reynolds became Steve Regan. To be honest, I snagged Regan from Linda Blaire’s character from The Exorcist. Christopher is a little more complicated.  
Be Negatively Capable with me for a minute here:  
The year is 1922. The ban on alcohol backfired making the liquor cheaper. Everyone is drunk and drunk on the idea of drunkenness. In Brooklyn or perhaps somewhere in Great Neck, a white and soft pink hotel room is occupied by three men and a young lady. None are over thirty. A man in a corner of the room lays across a dark leather chair in a navy blue suit, his socks are just visible, as are his suspenders because of his open jacket; Nicholas. French doors open onto a balcony and white curtains billow about the room from the breeze, ghosting in and bringing the eye up to the brass-and-wine celling. A man in a tan suit stands looking at an oil painting of a meadow vaguely, his coat is slung over his arm and his sleeves are messily pushed up, one of his suspenders beginning to fall off his shoulder, his hair is perfectly styled; Thomas. On the balcony a very tall man stands with his hands in the pockets of grey slacks, a matching jacket is thrown over another chair in the room, his shirt rolled to his elbows revealing muscular forearms, his hair mussed by the breeze, face obscured by sunglasses; Christopher.  
He appeared as you. This was a dream I continued to have.  
This garbage is from Beth’s not-so-short-lived F. Scott Fitzgerald phase. Christopher was born of a combination of Gatsby and Nick. A well suited balance for Captain Regan.  
Right.So now we have the man of the hour, the leading lady, the best friend.  
So what? “So plenty,” Paul Varjak would say.  
I hate to make assumptions about who you are. In fact if anything, I'd like to get to know you more. You as in Mr. Evans not Chris Evans The Actor. I like people for people. Not their titles. I could care less about Captain America honestly, I just want to know Steve Rogers. I'm breaking another promise to myself here and I'm throwing the “I’m different than most women” card out. If you want to throw the towel in here I don't blame you (if you've even stuck around this long).


	4. Part IV

By all means tap out. I dare you. I double dare you. I triple dog dare you. (Skipping the double dog and going right for the throat

but if you do stay then maybe you have recalled that I mentioned three assaults. The third was the worst of all. He was my best friend. And I helped him cheat.  
Okay red flags all over the show! Context needed right? Yeah. Ouais. Alors, it started at an end-of-year ball (or banquet) for the cheerleaders at the end of the season.   
I have two amazing bffs; Kelly and Wendy for arguments sake (you already know of Kelly).  
Wendy sits us down. She confesses why she and her boyfriend (another best friend of mine, Aaron), haven't been doing too hot. They fight and Wendy hadn't been so faithful. But neither had Aaron. Aaron had told us his side a couple weeks after which made Wendy seem like a cold hearted witch. Torn between sides we side with Aaron. Spending more time with him; trying to get him to leave her etc. Relationship in shambles at this point, their parents step in and lines are crossed. Still on Aaron’s side the war continues over the summer. The specifics of this are not my story to tell. The events soon after, are. We're looking at the spring after the summer we just saw; a whole year of this stupid wedge issue. Aaron invites me over to watch a movie (I know, I know “Netflix and Chill”). It is only months after Heath had left me. Aaron flirts way too much while I'm there. I say no, he pushes harder; “Wendy and I are barely together,” over and over. He takes off my clothes and well…you know the rest. And my saving grace; what had I been watching earlier that day? Captain America: The First Avenger. So I closed my eyes and used my only defence I had built up over so many years of torture when fighting back didn't work.  
After the fact felt worse than during. During I could distract myself. Now I had to face cold, brute reality. Now, you've probably guessed by now I've been mentally ill for a very long time; everyone has something wrong and it's okay not to be okay. But I will state for the record that I am not schizophrenic and as far as I know I don't have psychosis (this sounds sketchy just saying so, I realize it). Often times, victims of rape or trauma will dissociate in some way to cope; for Beth; for me that became the world surrounding Captain Regan and Beth. I am about to reveal my single remaining secret. I crossed a line with what I'd used for defence. At first it remained a defence; after my previous encounters I was made uneasy when approached by men in any circumstance when I was alone. Naturally I thought that if I was pretending to talk to a male I was obviously involved with, I would be left alone. So it began. I used mundane conversation to make it seem as though Steve were on the other line. One day a friend overheard and grew curious so I made a cover story. From there it has progressed. It is sad to say the least that I feel so unsafe I have to encompass myself in a lie for protection. Even still it was related to you in some way again. Is it wrong how much you have inspired me? You may be an actor for a variety of reasons but I'm kind of hoping it's because you're a poetic soul too, filled with as much Negative Capability as Keats or Shakespeare. It's hard for a poetic or artistic soul to survive in such a pragmatic, practical world; which is why we need to rely on each other, Mr. Evans. Maybe I subconsciously sought you out because I could guess what kind of solace your work would bring me. For that I am forever grateful.  
Spilling secrets to a stranger or acquaintance is easier than to someone you know. I guess that's why therapy is so effective. No fear of judgement. No room for failure. No way to destroy a friendship.


	5. Part V

To be perfectly honest, I have no idea why I'm writing this. It all kind of tumbled out faster than I would normally allow. If you've ever heard a transatlantic (I'm certain you have,) you know how graceful and accent it is. I mean, can you imagine Audrey Hepburn ever sounding clumsy when she speaks? Didn't think so. This letter has come out more clumsily than my own accent would permit. 

 

So ouais, sob story, you saved me, blah blah blah. Only you didn't just save me then. You. As an actor. As someone with an amount of Negative Capability I am disgustingly jealous of. Helped inspire me to shape myself how I wanted. In staying true to yourself I could see some form of good in the world you come from. By seeing what you do I didn't feel inadequate anymore or the need to “be part of your world”. This essay is basically an in-depth thank you. They always tell us to never meet our heroes because of the fear that they won't be who we thought they were. I'm hoping that's not true in this case.

Yours Truly (not Truly Scrumptious, unfortunately),

Elizabeth

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I was just thinking about all of those rape victims who looks up to idols to cope and how they never speak out. I wanted this to kind of be in favour of those girls/boys. Shoutout and love to any survivors. Do what makes you happy because it wasn't your fault! Xo


End file.
